1. Theme
2. Perspective
3. Setting
4. Plot/Structure
5. Endings
6. Titles
7. Fit
8. Craft

When I started working for Apex Magazine, one of my tasks was to take over the microfiction contest on our Patreon. That first month, I hadn’t had any role in selecting the themes, and I didn’t have much experience with microfiction–only flash. I wrote myself a list of elements to think about as I was editing, to help me make the decisions. My delight in reading those stories surprised me. Yes, often they were vignettes or a bit stilted, but when they worked, they were so powerful! Over the next twenty months, I fell deeper and deeper in love with microfiction.

Then, during our 2023 Kickstarter, we added flash fiction to the magazine, and I was promoted to flash fiction editor. I brought that list, which had changed some as I honed my editorial eye, to the flash contest. So much about what makes microfiction amazing is the same with flash–but flash has its own challenges and difficulties.

Theme

The first thing I look for in these pieces is Theme. In part because both the microfiction contest and the flash contest are themed, of course. However, I do think that considering what your story is about can be valuable even if you’re not writing to a particular theme. Either way, ask yourself this question: What element of this story is so important that the story falls apart without it? For themed stories, that should be your theme. If it’s not a themed story, that’s the core of your story and can be used as a guideline for editing.

An exercise that can be helpful here, which I learned from the great writing teacher David Farland, is to write down a list of ten ideas for the story as quickly as you can. Setting a timer might help, as the brain sometimes works well under pressure, but really try to get to ten ideas. Forcing your brain to dig through those top-level ideas will help you create concepts that are unique and, hopefully, fresh to the first readers and editors.

Theme reading suggestions:

• “Experimental Protocol for the Coronal Sectioning and Assessment of a Human Soul” by Sagan Yee (Dissection theme)
• “Walking the Deep Down” by Michelle Denham (Footsteps in the Forest theme).

Perspective

The next thing I think about with short-short fiction is Perspective. This goes beyond first person, second person, etc, although those are important too. What I really think about here is where is the story coming from? Quite often, especially with microfiction, stories aren’t told via a character in the traditional sense, but we still want these perspectives to be clear and compelling. Ask yourself, what is unique about the perspective telling your story? Can that perspective be used to do some of the worldbuilding work for you?

Perspective reading suggestion:

• “Consummation” by Anne Gresham.

Setting

Setting flows naturally from perspective for me. Again, with micro and flash, we’re often dealing with more nebulous or intangible settings than a more traditional place, but that doesn’t make setting any less important. Instead, I think about in what context the story is taking place. The setting should be clear to the reader and evocative in one way or another–that is, it should evoke some kind of emotional response. Whether enticing or horrifying or nostalgic, use that setting to enhance the emotional impact of your piece. Sensory details are a good tool, here, especially if they’re unique and powerful.

Setting reading suggestion:

• “The Music Station” by Amanda Saville.

Plot/Structure

Once you know who is telling your story and where they are, consider the plot or structure of your piece. This is a big challenge for small stories. Many of the rejections we send are because the story is either just a snapshot/vignette and not a complete story, or the piece is trying to do too much with the space allowed. Surprisingly, this is one of the things that I see more in flash than micro. I feel like the room to meander in 1000 words is lost with micro, forcing writers to really focus on their tale. Don’t meander! Treat even longer pieces as if you only have 250 words to tell the story. The result is tighter, stronger fiction.

Something else to consider with plot is an idea from Algis Budrys, which is that “the manuscript is not the story.” I can totally nerd out about this, but I’ll try to be brief. Basically, the manuscript is the words on the page that tell the story to the reader, but the story is what happens in the reader’s mind as they read. Story has a beginning, middle, and end, with conflict and events and denouements. Your manuscript doesn’t have to have all those things, if the manuscript puts those things in the reader’s mind.

Plot reading suggestion:

• “Over My Bones” by Dana Vickerson.

Endings

Inevitably with plot, we come to endings. This is another frequent cause for rejection–the ending doesn’t work. When looking at your ending, consider the beginning premise and promise of your piece. What does the character want at the beginning? What does the title imply? Do those things pay off at the end? If this is something you struggle with, like me, consider writing your ending first. This might help you to know where your story is going and keep you on the right path.

Endings reading suggestion:

• “The Nightingale, the Lark, and the Spider Queen” by Kai Delmas.

Titles

From the end to the beginning. In short-short fiction, your title can make a significant difference. It doesn’t have to, so don’t stress it too much, but if the title can do some worldbuilding/premise work, or establish your tone, those are words saved for dialogue or narration or description below. Does your title evoke a question, image, or mood? Does the first line follow up on that? Editors and first readers are always looking for a reason to reject–that’s our job. The job of a writer is to never give them that reason.

Fit

Next, something that is both in and out of the writer’s control: fit. It’s something I think writers overlook or perhaps undervalue when sending their pieces out. When I’m reading for Apex, it’s not just a matter of what I enjoy, although that does come into play a little, but also the needs and expectations of the magazine and its readership. If a story doesn’t belong next to the other Apex stories, it doesn’t matter how good it is. Best tip here? Read the markets you’re submitting to, so you know what they want.

Fit reading suggestion:

• “Crimson Clover” by Angela Sylvaine.

Craft

And finally, the most common reason for rejection. This is often a rather non-specific, “the writing isn’t there”, which makes it hard to quantify. For me, personally, and my team, we don’t reject for typos. We’re all human beings doing the best we can and mistakes happen. However, in an age of spell check, spelling errors display a lack of attention. I also don’t reject for grammar or punctuation–there are too many varieties and origins for English language learning.

Instead, treatment issues come down to “craft” concepts that would require significant developmental editing. Some examples: too long or insufficient descriptions, stilted or unnatural dialogue, a structure that distracts from or doesn’t make sense for the piece. It’s easy for editors and readers to hold the entirety of a flash fiction piece in their mind. If there’s a descriptive beat that isn’t relevant to the story, it stands out much more significantly in 1000 words than in 3000 or 5000. In 250 words, it’s glaring. I think it’s fair to say that between two equally excellent stories, the polished one is more one likely to be selected–especially for contests.

I hope this has been helpful! Keep writing short!

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